


Everyone's Favorite Christmas

by avxry



Category: The Maze Runner Series - All Media Types, The Maze Runner Series - James Dashner
Genre: AU, Christmas, Christmas AU, Cute, F/F, First Kiss, Fluff, I will go down with these ships, Love Actually - Freeform, M/M, Opening Presents, friendship to relationship, i had feels and i needed this, minewt, minewt and thomally centric, that's it just fluff, thomally, trenda - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-20
Updated: 2014-12-20
Packaged: 2018-03-02 09:30:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,226
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2807687
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/avxry/pseuds/avxry
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The gang gathers in Thomas's living room to celebrate Christmas spirit, watch romance movies, and admit their feelings for one another.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Everyone's Favorite Christmas

**Author's Note:**

> this is a shameless excuse for fluff  
> that's it, there's nothing else to it, just fluff  
> also this kept me up until 3:30 am so it's probably still not very good  
> please enjoy

"Ah, Christmas," Thomas sighs with a smile. "The time for sneaking around to find out what your gifts are, and blackmailing your closest friends into giving you what you want, and getting drunk underneath a mistletoe that's never actually there --"  
  
"Alright, I get it, Tommy," Newt rolls his eyes. "You have a love-hate relationship with Christmas, now help me put up the tree."  
  
"Why are you always here?" Thomas asks as he goes to help with the tree. "Why are you never at Minho's, or Gally's, or Frypan's, or Teresa's, or Brenda's, seriously, the list goes on and on."  
  
"Because this is where we're having the party," Newt mumbled as he clicks a fake tree branch into place. "And, as I should have known, you still haven't put up the bloody tree, even though the party is literally hours away."   
  
"Come on," Thomas shrugs, looking at one of the squished branches weirdly. "It can't take that long to put up a tree."   
  
"Do you even  _do_  Christmas?" Newt asks exasperatedly. "It's not just the tree, we have to make something to eat as well, and we should probably put some decorations up  _somewhere_ , and you have to wrap the gifts that you won't let me see, which I'll probably have to help with anyway because we both know how many times you've cut yourself on the bloody tape dispenser --"  
  
"Newt," Thomas says, putting his hands up as if him to calm him down. "Slow down there, buddy. It doesn't have to be perfect."  
  
Newt sighs and slinks against the wall. "Sorry."  
  
"No no," Thomas replies sarcastically. "Don't apologize for totally bringing up the many incidents we've  _pinky-promised_   _we would never bring up ever again_  --"  
  
"I was trying to make a point!" Newt exclaims, then tosses an unfolded branch at Thomas's face.   
  
"A pinky promise is a sacred thing, Newt!" Thomas yells dramatically, but he starts opening up the branch anyway, then sticks it into the tree. "So," he says after a minute, giving Newt a knowing look, "when's your boyfriend getting here?"  
  
Newt rolls his eyes but flashes pink. "He's not my boyfriend."   
  
"He totally is!" Thomas denies with a grin. "You're practically married already! All you need to do is kiss him --"  
  
"Why do  _I_  have to kiss  _him_?" Newt questions, trying to avoid Thomas's gaze. "Why do none of your little fantasies start with him kissing me?"  
  
"Whoa, back up there," Thomas says, and looks at Newt with a blank face. "I do  _not_  have fantasies."  
  
"Oh, yeah?"  
  
"Yeah."  
  
"What about that one confession last time I stayed over?" Newt taunts with a smirk. "You know, that one about Gally and the eggnog --"  
  
"THAT IS TWO THINGS NOW THAT WE SWORE TO NEVER BRING UP, " Thomas yells loudly, throwing a couch pillow at Newt's head violently. You promised! You promised that what happens in the blanket fort  _stays in the blanket fort_!"  
  
"You realize how ridiculous you sound right now?" Newt laughs, tossing the pillow back into the sofa. "As college students, we should not make blanket forts and play Truth-or-Dare inside them."   
  
"College is the exact time to do these things!" Thomas nearly screeches. "Don't deny me my liberty!"  
  
"How am I possibly denying you your liberty?"  
  
"Stop questioning everything!"  
  
"Why I put up with you, I don't even know . . ."  
  
"I wouldn't act like this if you would obey the laws of a pinky promise," Thomas says defiantly, pretending to pout as he works on another unfolded branch.   
  
"You're such a child."  
  
"I thought you said we were college students."  
  
"I know I am, I don't know about you anymore."  
  
"Whatever," Thomas says with as much fake sass as he can conjure. "But really, when's Minho getting here?"  
  
"Any time, I suppose," Newt shrugs, clicking in another branch. "He said around noon-ish."   
  
"Is noon-ish an actual time?" Thomas asks absently. "Could you plan a meeting for 'noon-ish'?"  
  
"Shut up, will you?" Newt laughs jokingly. "You're such an idiot."  
  
"Yet you still find the need to be constantly around me, instead of your boy toy."  
  
"Bloody hell, I don't have a boy toy," Newt says solidly with a sigh. "Don't you dare say that around Minho."  
  
"Oh, you mean don't say that you're absolutely, irrevocably in love with him?" Thomas jeers with a grin.   
  
"Firstly, I'm not in love with him, but yes, exactly, don't say that," Newt says, "and secondly, did you just quote  _Twilight_?"  
  
Thomas throws his hands up in defense. "I liked the books."   
  
"You're a bloody teenage girl, I swear . . ."  
  
"Break the gender barriers, Newton!" Thomas exclaims. "So what if I'm a teenage girl? I do have secrets."  
  
"You have no secrets," Newt contradicts. "None whatsoever. You feel the need to tell me every detail of every thought in your brain -- unfortunately."   
  
"Aw, come on, you know you love listening to me talk," Thomas jokes with a taunting grin.   
  
"Yeah," Newt agrees, "my favorite part is when you stop."   
  
"Hurtful," Thomas pouts again, just as the doorbell is ringing. He jumps up, unlocks the door, and opens it to reveal Minho in a ridiculous Christmas sweater with green and red stripes and reindeer frolicking in the flurries of snow, not to mention the cute little candy canes around the hemlines.   
  
"We were just talking about you --" Thomas begins, but stops when he sees the sweater. Holding back a laugh, he says, "Who ate your entire closet, dude?"  
  
"Shut up," Minho replies with zero humor in his tone. "My mother made me wear it."  
  
"Remind me to send her a thank-you card," Thomas laughs, then opens the door to let him in.   
  
In the living room, Newt beams up at Minho as he walks in, just because he's here, but the laughter is definitely because of the sweater. One hand over his mouth, he says, "Oh my God, you look bloody adorable!"  
  
Minho, originally smiling at Newt, drops any cheeriness in his expression and deadpans, "I will murder you."  
  
Newt, however, is entirely unaffected due his current hysterical state (because Minho does not have the right to be so cute in such an ugly Christmas sweater), which only frustrates Minho more.   
  
"Mom wouldn't even let me bring a jacket," he grumbles, sitting down on the couch. "She made me wear it just to embarrass me at this party."  
  
"That's her way of getting back at you for skipping out on hers," Thomas points out, then hands Minho an unfolded tree branch.   
  
He stares at it, then at the halfway-finished tree. "Shuck, Thomas, you still haven't put up a Christmas tree? Christmas is tomorrow."   
  
"In the spirit of Christmas," Thomas says, dignified, "I spent time with friends and family instead of conforming to society's instinctive need to push its customs on me."  
  
"You're on the internet too much," Newt comments, his giggles finally dying down.   
  
"It's a shuckin' Christmas tree," Minho says, throwing a hand out to gesture at it. "What's so bad about a Christmas tree?"  
  
"I won't allow society to tell me how to live my life."  
  
"Bloody hell," Newt groans.   
  
Minho shrugs, "You say it's because of society, but I think you just didn't want to do it."  
  
Thomas looks at his two friends as if he's hiding something. "That may be a possibility."  
  
"Called it."   
  
"Whatever."  
  
~~**~~  
  
Despite Newt's original worries, everything was set up quite nicely by eight o'clock, when the party was actually scheduled.  The first to arrive was Brenda, bringing along Teresa. They had baked sugar cookies which looked so delicious that Newt almost had to literally restrain Thomas from hiding all of them in his bedroom.   
  
"How are you two doing?" Thomas asks with a smile at the girls. "I feel like I never see you guys anymore."  
  
"We've been busy," Brenda sighs, smiling back.   
  
"Yeah," Teresa nods, "everyone  _love's_  Brenda's paintings. They're really good."  
  
"They wouldn't sell without you to do all the setting up," Brenda reminds her with a squeeze of their entwined hands. Teresa smiles softly over at Brenda and Thomas looks at them happily while mutely thinking that he was stupid to think they had both had a crush on him at one point.   
  
Not long after, Alby shows up, followed by Frypan, and then, lastly, Gally, to whom Thomas greets with much more cheer than he had with anyone else.   
  
(Thomas and Gally, a Brief Summary: Initial sworn arch-enemies [according to Thomas], they hadn't been on very good terms. That is, until Thomas desperately needed help with physics and Gally was the only one in his immediate group of friends that took the class. Reluctantly, Gally agreed to tutor Thomas until his grade was back to an acceptable score, but over that time period, the two became good friends. And now, after several months of a healthy friendship, Thomas finds himself with a terrible predicament: He has an entirely unavoidable crush on his newest friend.)  
  
"Hey!" Thomas says happily as he opens the door to see Gally.   
  
"Hey," Gally grins back at him, rubbing his arms through his coat. He's dressed in a thick, greenish coat with a checked under-layer, along with a faded red scarf and snow boots, and Thomas thinks it's the absolute cutest thing he's ever seen.   
  
By eight-thirty, they're all situated in the living room with the fire blazing and the Christmas tree lit up quite nicely, a glass of milk, coffee, or eggnog in everyone's hand.   
  
"A toast," Thomas says loudly, lifting his glass of eggnog, "to Christmas with friends."  
  
"To Christmas with friends," everyone echoes, and takes a sip of whatever they're all drinking.   
  
Then Brenda says, "The tree looks really nice," and Newt goes into a long-winded rant about Thomas's terrible procrastination and laziness, followed by a lament of how annoying he can be when confronted about it, and everyone has heard this before, but no one minds, because it's Christmas, and all stories are better at Christmas.   
  
Then, Thomas demands, "I hereby declare that our Christmas tradition stay intact: two holiday movies,  _at least_ , and then a board game."  
  
"I refuse to play a board game again," Newt shakes his head. "Minho always wins, and then you get upset and request a rematch every time and we end up playing for hours."  
  
"Alright then, cards," Thomas offers.   
  
"No way," Minho chimes in this time. "Alby always wins."  
  
Frypan explains, "Yeah, because he has a shuckin' poker face of steel."   
  
"Okay, so maybe no games then," Thomas shrugs.  "But we're definitely watching Christmas movies."  
  
"As long as they're not too cheesy," Gally says. "I can't stand cheesy holiday movies."  
  
"Not to worry," Teresa grins mischievously, "I brought the best Christmas romance movie of all time just because I knew Thomas would request a movie."   
  
"Please tell me it's not  _12 Dates of Christmas_  again," Brenda groans, looking over at her with exasperation. "She watched that three times over the weekend, and it's not even very good."  
  
"That was a great movie!" Teresa protests, but reaching for her bag, adds, "But that's not what I brought." She pulls out a movie with a triumphant smile on her face. "I brought  _Love Actually_."   
  
"No," Gally says, shaking his head and setting his milk down on the coffee table. "No way, that's exactly what I said I wouldn't watch."   
  
"You said no cheesy holiday movies," Teresa replies. "This isn't cheesy. It's adorable."   
  
"I will not be dragged into holiday romance," Gally denies, but Thomas elbows him in the ribs.   
  
"Come on, Gal," he says with a grin. "Don't knock it 'til you try it."   
  
"I have to agree with Gally on this one," Minho pipes up. "Romance isn't my style."  
  
"Oh yeah," Newt says sarcastically, "you're definitely not the one who made me and Thomas watch  _The Fault in Our Stars_ with you the day it came out."   
  
"First of all, Thomas invited himself," Minho points out, "and second of all, I don't even care, that was a great movie."  
  
"Book was better."  
  
"Oh, here we go."   
  
"Knock it off, guys," Alby says evenly. Then, the most unexpected thing happens: Alby says, " _Love Actually_  is actually a pretty good movie."   
  
Thomas is sure that everyone in the room is frozen, staring at Alby with shock painted on their faces. After a minute, Frypan says, "So . . . You mean to tell me that  . . . you've  _seen_  it?"  
  
Alby crosses his arms as if to look tough and says gruffly, "Yes. It was on Netflix on a deadline, and I hadn't seen it yet."  
  
The room is quiet for another minute, frozen in time, before everyone bursts out laughing at the same time, realizing just how utterly ridiculous Alby would look watching  _Love Actually_. Alby tries to get them to stop ("Alright, alright, you've made your point, slim it") but they just can't let it go. They're all simultaneously picturing Alby sitting on his couch with ice cream and the movie playing in front of him.   
  
Finally the laughter dies down, much to Alby's disgruntled favor, and Teresa sneaks the disk into the DVD Player without anyone noticing. By the time she turns it on and everyone sees what she did, Gally and Minho have made their peace and they decide to just wait it out -- if Alby can do it, they can do it.   
  
It's nearly ten o'clock by the time the movie actually starts, and they all settle down into their seats to watch the same screen for two hours. Thomas's living room is quite spacey for an apartment. The couch is directly across from the television, which is where he and Gally are seated juxtapose, along with Frypan beside Gally. To the left of the couch, creating a ninety-degree angle, is a large love seat upon which Brenda, Teresa, and Alby are residing. Then Minho and Newt are sitting on the floor, leaning against the couch with their legs under the coffee table.   
  
Halfway through the movie, Thomas is entirely smitten with it, and he's sitting on his feet, staring at the screen in awe. Gally looks over at him every few minutes and smiles at how innocently adorable Thomas is all the time. He absently moves closer and tucks his left ankle under his right thigh.   
  
Teresa has her legs dangling on top of Brenda's, her back against the armrest. Brenda places a kiss on her cheek and Teresa smiles over at her softly, entwining their fingers again.   
  
Minho finds himself adoring the movie, much to his own dismay, but Newt thinks it's entirely endearing. He giggles at Minho's pure interest. Subconsciously, Minho settles into a more comfortable position and wraps an arm around Newt's waist, pulling him closer. Newt's heart beats just a little faster and his cheeks flush, but he doesn't move away. He curls up against Minho's side, pulling his knees up to his chest and lying his head on Minho's shoulder.   
  
By the end of the film, everyone is half asleep and dizzy on the Christmas love radiating from the movie. Thomas was the only one to shed a couple tears, but everyone else was touched, nonetheless.   
  
Just before the credits roll, Thomas becomes increasingly aware of how close Gally had managed to migrate toward him. Their sides are pressed up against each other, their arms almost lying on top of one another, Gally's left knee almost resting on Thomas's left one.   
  
Brenda and Teresa had both fallen asleep already, since they had had an early morning, and Alby is still sipping his coffee, like Frypan. Newt and Minho are laughing quietly at some inside joke, curled around each other and talking in whispers. Minho suddenly plants a kiss on Newt's cheek, not even thinking about it, and Newt goes bright red, losing his breath for a moment.   
  
Minho says, "Sorry," as if he had dropped a piece of paper, but his eyes show that he's afraid of the repercussions of what he just did.   
  
Newt regains his breath and says, "S'fine."   
  
Minho nods, sucking in extra air for his lungs, and feels something warm against his own cheek. He realizes Newt had kissed him too, and he grins over at the blond boy, who is returning the expression with a cherry-stained face, but Minho finds it adorable.   
  
The credits roll on the screen and Thomas turns down the sound so that the music isn't so loud. He yawns and settles comfortably down farther into the couch with Gally.   
  
"That was pretty good," he nods. "Did anyone else notice that the Sam kid looked a lot like baby Newt?"  
  
"He did not," Newt protests.   
  
"Did too."  
  
"I never even was a baby," Newt says.   
  
"What?"  
  
"I just skipped that part."  
  
"You need sleep."   
  
"Yes. You know why?"  
  
"Why?"  
  
"Because I had to come help you put up your bloody Christmas tree."   
  
"Don't be bitter, it's Christmas."   
  
Newt looks up instantly at the clock, which reads 12:15 in red numbers. "Huh," he says, "it is Christmas."  
  
"Merry Christmas," Minho grins up at his friends. Those still awake echoed it back wearily, light smiles foggily placed on their lips.   
  
"Okay," Thomas says, "I know Brenda and Teresa are asleep, but it's our tradition to open presents at midnight."  
  
"Does it really count as a tradition if we've only done it once before?" Minho questions, squinting up at him.   
  
"Yes, yes it does," Thomas answers without hesitation. "So, I'm going to go get my presents for each of you and we're going to open them like a big happy family."   
  
"If you insist, dear," Newt replies sarcastically, then settles his head back into Minho's shoulder as Thomas steps over them to go to his bedroom. He returns a moment later with gifts stacked on top of each other, one for each person in the room. He hands them out personally then sits back down beside Gally.   
  
"I put mine and Minho's under the tree," Newt says, reaching over to grab them to distribute. Alby and Frypan both retrieve their own gifts to pass out.   
  
Finally, everyone had gifts from everyone scattered around them, all still wrapped, until Newt finally says, "Come on then, I'm tired, let's get a move on."   
  
In all, Thomas receives gifts that he'll treasure for most of his life, and so does everybody else, except maybe Gally, because Thomas's gift to him was less spectacular than expected.   
  
He opens it cautiously, as if waiting for a trick or some confetti to come flying out of the packaging. Inside the small box is a simple dog tag with the engraving "From Thomas, Merry Christmas." Gally smiles at it nonetheless and slips it around his neck.   
  
After everyone has opened their presents, Thomas is elected to do the cleaning because he was the one who insisted they open presents in the first place. Thomas is surprisingly easy to coerce, but he requests that Gally help him. They somehow manage to get the majority of the torn wrapping paper in one load. They carry it to the kitchen and drop it all in the trash can.   
  
Gally is about to leave to get the rest of it when Thomas grabs his arm. "Wait," he says, and Gally turns back around. Thomas continues, "I know your present from me was crappy --"  
  
"No, I like it," Gally interrupts. "It's suiting."  
  
"No, it's crappy," Thomas protests, "which is why it's not your real Christmas present."  
  
Gally stares at him carefully. "What?"  
  
"Come here," Thomas waves him over to the sink, and in the cabinet below it, he pulls out another gift, wrapped carefully in bright red paper with candy canes and a silver sticky bow. Written across it in black sharpie is "To Gally, from Thomas."  
  
"Well, open it," Thomas says with an excited grin, and Gally does as he's told, carefully tearing the paper away until it reveals a small book, just small enough to fit in a jacket pocket without squishing it.   
  
He reads the title:  _The Complete Tales and Poems of Edgar Allan Poe_.   
  
He looks at Thomas with a strange glint in his eye. "You hid this --?"  
  
"I know you don't really tell people you read," Thomas shrugs. "But I saw you looking at it in the library a while back. I wanted to give it to you privately."   
  
Gally looks back down at the book in his hands and rolls his lips, not knowing what to think. It's such a bombshell of a gift, it's not even that outstanding, but it is at the same time.   
  
He looks back at Thomas and sets the book down on the counter by the wrapping paper and, without thinking, cups Thomas's jaw with his hands and kisses him lightly on the lips. Thomas feels his stomach drop to his toes and his cheeks burn intensely but it's magical, and he tilts his head to get a better angle and their lips are moving gently, just a little, and there's fire in his veins. Gally smells like sugar cookies, tastes like stolen sips of Thomas's eggnog. Thomas clutches onto the sides of Gally's shirt lightly, heart still beating rapidly in his chest.   
  
"Hey, you shanks finished cleaning up y--"   
  
Newt comes striding into the kitchen with cups and coffee mugs in his hands, but he nearly drops them when he sees Thomas and Gally, who jerk away from each other like unattractive magnets.   
  
After a moment, Newt grins and says, "About bloody time." He drops the cups into the sink and exits the kitchen, returning to the living room.   
  
Thomas and Gally share a bashful glance and an embarrassed laugh.  
  
Back in the living room, Alby and Frypan are rising from their seats to head home, even though Newt is telling them on behalf of Thomas that they can stay. Frypan's excuse is that he needs a lot of room to sleep, and Alby's excuse is that he doesn't want to have to deal with both Newt and Minho and Thomas and Gally making out in a dark corner somewhere.  
  
"Yeah," Ably nods, "I noticed."   
  
Newt and Minho flush pink as the other two don their coats and scarves and wave goodbye, shouting a farewell to the two in the kitchen. When they're completely gone, Newt turns to Minho.  
  
They smile at each other for no reason, Newt's eyelids drooping and Minho's eyebrows wilting. Newt is about to suggest that they lie down somewhere to sleep when Minho takes a step forward and presses a soft kiss to his mouth, stopping both their hearts for a few beats. Newt just begins to kiss back when Minho pulls away, leaving him empty handed.   
  
They look at each other for a moment. It's silent except for the rhythmic breathing of Brenda and Teresa behind them. They just exist for a minute or so, not knowing how to do anything else. Finally, Newt blurts out, "I have a crush on you."  
  
He blames his complete stupidity on the fact that he's far too tired and is delirious from being kissed.  
  
But Minho just laughs, accompanied by a nod. "I know."   
  
Newt's throat goes dry and his eyes bug out. "What?"  
  
"Thomas made it pretty obvious," Minho shrugs. "I don't mind."   
  
Making a mental note to kick Thomas when he walks back in the room, Newt tries to breathe evenly, no panicking. "Sorry."  
  
"Don't be sorry," Minho shakes his head. "I have a crush on you too, I guess."  
  
"You guess?"  
  
"Yeah," he says. "I guess."   
  
Newt eyes him carefully for a moment before laughing. "You're such an idiot."   
  
And they both stand there, laughing like morons, until Gally and Thomas reenter the room, smiling stupidly.   
  
"I think it's time for bed," Thomas announces. "Teresa and Brenda can keep the love seat, they'll be fine."  
  
"I call the bed," Newt says quickly, then laughs, "Ha! Got you this time."  
  
"Shuck," Thomas grumbles. "Fine. I'll take the couch." Then he turned to Minho and Gally. "You two staying?" They both nod yes and Thomas nods, rubbing his eyes. "Alright, um --"  
  
"I'll go with Newt," Minho offers, sliding an arm around the blond's waist. Newt blushes furiously and bites his bottom lip.   
  
"Alright then," Thomas says, and to Gally: "Guess you're with me."  
  
Newt jokes, "Oh no, what  _ever_ shall he do?"  
  
"Shut up," they both say at the same time. Thomas adds, "You make jokes, but you're the one getting cuddly with Minho."   
  
Newt rolls his eyes. "Whatever. I'm getting the bed ready."   
  
He leaves and Minho takes one last sip of his eggnog, then nods at Gally and Thomas. "So," he says, "you two a thing now?"  
  
They share a look and Thomas says, "I guess."   
  
"Yeah," Gally answers, so Thomas smiles at him warmly and says, "Yeah."   
  
"About time," Minho comments.   
  
Thomas groans and rolls his eyes, then calls to the bedroom, "Newt, control your boyfriend!"   
  
"He's not my boyfriend!"   
  
Minho winks, "Totally his boyfriend," and heads to the bedroom with a cheeky smile on his face.   
  
After a few minutes, everyone is settled in to either the bed or the couch. In the bedroom, Minho kisses Newt's cheek again and wraps an arm around his back. Newt does the same to Minho's chest and tucks his head into the crook of his shoulder. On the couch, Gally has his arms around Thomas lightly, and Thomas curls their fingers together.   
  
All in all, this is everyone's favorite Christmas. 

**Author's Note:**

> aah, these ships will probably be the death of me  
> is it okay that I pronounce Thomally as tamale because I totally am  
> thanks so much for reading, love you guys  
> as usual, hasn't been beta'd, so please point out any mistakes  
> hope you enjoyed it and merry Christmas!


End file.
